


Rebel

by ZeAwesomeBirdie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, RusAme, humannames, prucan, worldconference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21864325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeAwesomeBirdie/pseuds/ZeAwesomeBirdie
Summary: Alfred Jones has spent the last seventy-two years fighting his self-proclaimed arch nemesis, Ivan Braginsky.  But little does he know, Feliciano Vargas has plans to get them on better terms.
Relationships: America/Russia (Hetalia), Canada/Prussia (Hetalia), Germany/North Italy (Hetalia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	Rebel

Yet another meeting was dissolving into fighting. Alfred Jones was screaming at Ivan Braginsky, who was smiling stonily while his sisters anxiously looked on. Matthew Williams, the country of Canada, had silently popped in earbuds and was trying to focus on anything other than his twin being an idiot. The United States of America was not known for making the best decisions, ie, screaming at the country of Russia once again, like he did at every meeting, and had for the last seventy odd years. The country of Germany, Ludwig Beilschmidt, was trying to restore order from the European side of the room, and his brother Gilbert, former nation of Prussia, was egging Alfred on.

Ludwig finally had enough, and dismissed the meeting for a short break. Grumbling amongst themselves, the various countries and nations left the ballroom, while Alfred continued to shoot obscenities at his self-proclaimed arch nemesis. Matthew hurried over to Gilbert, and had to drag him out of the room.

“Seriously, Gil, you’re better than this!” the blond said when they were in the hallway. “If I had known you were going to be this obnoxious I wouldn’t have brought you.”

“Oh birdie, you know this is hilarious!” Gilbert ran a hand through his silver hair, grinning up at his partner.

Sighing, Matthew said, “I get that they like each other, but you must remember the forty or so years they were enemies. Old habits die hard, you know that.”

“I know, I get it,” Gilbert responded, putting an arm around Matthew’s waist and pulling him close. “Besides, I have better countries to annoy.”

“Gil!” Matthew exclaimed. “It’s just a short break, we most certainly don’t have time for-”

His breath caught in his throat as Gilbert kissed him, and the country found, to his annoyance, that he didn’t mind skipping out on a bit of a meeting.

“Okay, okay,” said Matthew, laughing, as the albino released him. “C’mon then.”

As they headed for the elevators of the hotel, Alfred burst out of the meeting room. The blond country huffed, glanced around, and went straight for the stairwell. After making sure he wasn’t followed, Alfred sat down on the landing and tried to keep his tears from falling. He pulled a blue handkerchief from the pocket of his bomber jacket, and angrily wiped at his eyes. A few minutes quietly went by before he was able to pull himself together, then he stood, smoothed his hair, and went back into the hallway.

In the ballroom, the meeting was reconvening. Alfred sat back at the table he shared with Matthew, noticed his twin was not present, but thought nothing of it. He resolved to avoid saying anything to anyone for the rest of today’s meeting, unless he was spoken to directly. This way, he thought, there was no way Ivan could cause any grief. Not that Ivan causing grief would be too awful, the problem was his own reactions.

He risked looking over at the offending country. Ivan appeared to be writing, and his sisters, Iryuna Chernenko and Natalia Arlovskaya, were speaking quietly to each other and occasionally glancing between him and Alfred. Returning his focus to the front of the room, where Tino Vainamoinen was setting up his presentation on this year’s projected Christmas Run, Alfred took a deep breath. Remembering a breathing exercise he had read about on Reddit, the blond closed his eyes, inhaled for five counts and exhaled for eight counts, then opened his eyes. He did feel better, however slightly.

“Ciao Mr. America!” Feliciano Vargas, Northern Italy, exclaimed as he swung himself into the empty chair next to Alfred, startling him.

“Oh! Hey, Feli. We don’t have to be super formal, remember we’re practically family now.” Alfred ran a hand through his hair, trying to be very casual and not show that he had just spent the last ten minutes crying.

“Of course Alfred!” Feliciano said, bouncing slightly. “Well, Ludwig and I were wondering if you would join us for dinner! We are inviting a few different nations to join us before the ball tonight.”

“Sure, of course I’ll go. Just text me where to meet you, okay?”

“Okay! Feel better, we would hate to miss you tonight!”

Before Alfred could respond, Feliciano was already up and hurrying back to his spot next to his brother Lovino, Southern Italy. He sighed. If Feliciano, the most carefree country of all, had noticed he was out of it today, who else knew? He glanced over in Ivan’s direction once again, and to his surprise, the russian was looking at him. After a second of eye contact, Ivan turned away, face red. Realizing he was now staring, Alfred pulled his attention back to Tino’s presentation.

Two hours later, it was time for yet another break. The United States definitely wanted to go cry in the stairwell, but decided he would rather not be ‘that country’ and went to grab a drink of water instead. At the drinks table in the hallway, he ran into Matthew and Gilbert.

“Where were you bro?” he asked Matthew, who shrugged.

“I dunno what your talking about Al, I was sitting with Gil.” He smiled, and Gilbert was clearly holding back laughter.

“Okay, whatever,” Alfred said after a moment.

“How is Ivan?” Gilbert asked him.

Alfred choked on his water. “What- what do you mean?” he asked when he got himself under control.

“Oh, nothing. Just wondering how you two were getting on, after your little quarrel earlier.” The albino hid a smile by taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t- I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about. We are arch nemeses, after all.”

“Well, I heard Feli inviting Ivan to dinner tonight,” Matthew said, watching for his twin’s reaction.

“What? Why would he invite that commie?” Alfred was bright red and getting flustered.

“Why does it matter? Can you not hold it together for Feli and Ludwig?” Gilbert asked. “They are trying to improve relations between the more, how shall I say, irritable countries.”

“I am hardly irritable,” Alfred croaked, feeling his tears rising.

“That yelling match earlier begs to differ,” Gilbert said casually. “Well, it was lovely catching up with you, Al, see you tonight at the dinner.

After both Gilbert and Matthew were in the ballroom, Alfred headed straight for the stairwell. Time to cry until the meeting was called to order. His heart didn’t quite get the memo, however, as the blond found he was rather excited to see Ivan outside of the meetings. He decided he would try to avoid fighting if he could, and maybe they could have a good conversation.

* * *

Alfred was the first to arrive in the lobby of the hotel when it was time for the dinner. He stood against a pillar and played a game on his phone, waiting for Feliciano and Ludwig to show up. It was rare that he was early to something, but he knew it was due to his excitement at potentially talking to Ivan.

“Zdravstvujtye, America.”

Jumping slightly, Alfred said, “Hey, Mr. Russia. How are you tonight?” He mentally kicked himself for starting a conversation with his arch nemesis.

“Hm… will be better with food, da?”

“Indeed.” Alfred didn’t dare look up, so he kept his eyes on his phone as he asked, “What did you think of today’s meetings?”

“Not the most fascinating. Grateful for Tino planning the Christmas Run. And you, what were your thoughts?”

Gulping, the blond said, “I found Tino’s thing cool too. It’ll be helpful as the holidays come up.”

As they stood in relative silence, Alfred chanced looking up. Ivan was fiddling with the ends of his scarf, and very obviously anxious. The realization that his self proclaimed enemy was as anxious as he was calmed the part of his mind that was screaming at him to start a fight.

“Well, um. Where do you think the others are?” he finally asked.

“I am not so sure, America. Northern Italy said to be here at five, so here we are, and they are not.” The nation did not look up from his scarf as he spoke.

Alfred smiled, then said, “He said the same to me. I wonder if this was a set up.”

“A set up? For what would be the purpose of such a thing?”

“Well, Mr. Prussia told me that this dinner was meant to placate those of us who were ‘irritable’ during meetings, you know?”

Ivan nodded, finally looking over at him. “I understand, da. But I do not understand why they would do such a thing to us. Maybe to Greece and Turkey. Such tactics are sneaky.”

“I agree.” Alfred floundered for another thing to say that wouldn’t be completely embarrassing, finally settling on, “Maybe we should go to dinner on our own. I’ll buy, okay?”

“Hm…” Ivan hummed. “Da, this is a good idea. Where are you interested in going?”

“I mean, there’s a restaurant just down the hall, I don’t really know anywhere else. New city and all.”

The silence returned for a few minutes, while both countries stood awkwardly and tried to find something to say. Alfred could feel his heart beating fast enough that he was sure Ivan could hear it.

“That sounds fine, America,” Ivan eventually said, smiling slightly at him.

“Neat. I mean, cool. Okay, let’s go.” Alfred turned and waved for Ivan to follow him down the hall.

At the restaurant, the hostess brought them to the area reserved for countries, where there were a few other pairs eating before the ball that night. Still no sign of Feliciano and Ludwig, however. After ordering their food, Alfred decided he needed to actually talk to the nation across from him.

“What are your sisters up to? I’m surprised Feliciano didn’t invite them tonight,” he said.

“I believe, as you suggested earlier, that this may have been a set up.” Ivan shrugged, taking a hesitant sip of his water.

“It truly would not surprise me,” Alred sighed. “Well, how are they, then?”

“Not to happy with the two of us, I must say.”

“Why not? What did I do to them?”

“Hm… America, you are quite frustrating to them.”

“Oh.” Alfred thought for a moment, then said, “Hey, Mr. Russia, you can call me by my human name, okay?”

Ivan shook his head. “My boss has forbidden such camaraderie, even with my sisters.”

“What do you mean?” Alfred asked, thoroughly confused.

“I am not permitted to use anyone’s name unless it is their formal name. But, I do not think it would get me in trouble if you used my human name?” There was a hint of hesitancy in the tall nation’s voice, and Alfred felt his heart pang solidly.

“Sure, Ivan.” He swallowed. “What else are you not allowed to do?”

“Speak with you. But I do not like that particular rule, after all, your arguments are quite enjoyable.”

Alfred felt his face heat up slightly. “Um. Any particular reason for that rule?”

“It was a rule all the way back from 1947. Every new boss just enforced it more strictly.”

“I getcha. Well, will this dinner get you in trouble?”

“Only if they find out,” Ivan said, smiling.

“I won’t say a word.”

When the food came out, they didn’t talk for a few minutes. Alfred pondered the last seventy years that he had spent thinking he hated this country. His own boss had insisted on certain rules around Ivan, and there were many, many instances where he was told of all the horrible things he had done. The blond wondered if Ivan had gone through similar treatment, and if that was the reason they hated each other.

“Hey, Ivan?” he eventually asked. “Did your boss ever tell you about the bad things my people have done?”

“All the time. The latest was something about how your people suspect mine of tampering with your elections.” Ivan shrugged.

Nodding, Alfred said, “Didn’t your people help my boss get his presidency?”

“Da, I believe so.”

“He denies it, and says you are an awful country, but in the same breath praises some of the laws your boss enforces.”

“I hate my boss,” Ivan said with a sigh.

“I hate mine too. We should rebel.” Alfred gave him a smile, which Ivan hesitantly returned.

“Da. We should. What are you thinking, America?”

“First, call me Alfred, okay?”

Ivan nodded, blushing slightly. “Alfred,” he said quietly, testing out the name he hadn’t said in seventy-two years.

“Okay cool. I wonder what else we could do,” Alfred mused, “I suppose just talking is rebelling in and of itself.”

“Indeed.”

“Hey,” Alfred said quietly, “Do you want to go to the ball tonight with me? Just to say ‘fuck you’ to our bosses, mind you.”

“Hm…” Ivan was silent for a moment, before finally saying, “It would be a pleasure, Alfred.”

They smiled at each other, each blushing lightly. All too soon, dinner was finished. The ball was starting in half an hour, so they said their goodbyes with a promise to meet in the lobby right before the ball began.

* * *

Alfred was sitting in the lobby fifteen minutes later. He was wearing a blue suit with a maroon tie, and anxiously smoothing down his hair. Checking his watch for the fourth time since sitting, he huffed slightly and pulled out his phone. The blond thought about texting his twin and asking about what happened with the dinner, but decided against it. He put his phone back in his pocket, and huffed again.

The United States was well aware that he was early. That didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous. After all, if their bosses found out about this, who knew what would happen. Would Ivan go back to hating him? And this, this was practically a date, and Alfred was well aware of what Ivan’s boss thought of queer couplings.

Five minutes before the ball was to begin, Alfred glanced around the lobby and spotted Ivan. The nation was standing uncomfortably still in a corner, looking a little lost. He was wearing a dark gray suit that complimented his purple eyes nicely, and a gray pinstripe tie. Alfred realized he had stopped breathing at some point since noticing him, and inhaled deeply. There was a part of him that very much wanted to run away, or go eat as much chocolate has he could before getting a stomach ache. After a moment, he stood, smoothed down his hair one last time, and walked over to Ivan as casually as he could.

“Hey,” Alfred said in greeting. “You look nice tonight.”

Blushing, Ivan said, “Hello, Alfred. As do you.”

Grinning up at the country, Alfred linked their arms together and gestured towards the ballroom. “Shall we?”

Ivan nodded. He was very obviously flustered, but pulled Alfred a little bit closer as they walked into the ballroom. Music was already pouring from the room, just barely over the sound of the chatter of a few hundred countries. Alfred spotted Matthew and Gilbert sitting in the corner, and pointed them out to Ivan.

“Do you think we should go figure out what the hell was the problem with dinner?” he asked.

“Hm… what do you think Alfred? I suppose it would be in our best interests to ignore the alleged drama that is created surrounding us.” Ivan looked down at the blond country, smiling. “Though I suppose your need for drama indicates that we must indeed investigate, da?”

“Yep. Wanna tag along?”

“Da, I certainly cannot let you get yourself into trouble on your own.”

“Oh please, Ivan. You know I don’t need help getting into trouble,” Alfred said, laughing. He led him over to where his twin was sitting. “Yo, Mattie! Where the fuck were y’all during dinner?”  
Gilbert stifled a laugh as Matthew said, “Why, we were with Ludwig and Feli, where were the two of you?”

Alfred groaned, and Ivan gently nudged him. “We were in the lobby waiting for you lot to show up!”

“Feli said we were meeting at the restaurant. You may not have gotten the memo.” Gilbert cut in, holding back a smirk. “But it seems that relations between the two of you have improved greatly, considering your arms are linked.”

Now blushing, Alfred stepped a bit closer to Ivan and said, “We are rebelling at the moment, if you must know.” He looked up at the russian, who was bright red and staring at his shoes. “Well, I suppose I ought to find Feli, and ask him about this situation.”

“You go right ahead,” Gilbert responded. “I would bet that he just forgot to tell you where to meet.”

“Okay, okay, I get it, Gil. Mattie, control your boyfriend.”

“He’s not doing anything, Al, he’s telling the truth.” Matthew sighed. “Look, we have to go get drinks, so we’ll see you later, ok?” The blond stood, pulling Gilbert after him, and walked towards the drinks table.

“I am so sorry, Ivan,” Alfred said after they were standing alone. He unlinked their arms and turned away. “I must’ve really embarrassed you.”

Ivan said nothing for a minute or so, then gently took Alfred’s hand.

“I rather like being your friend,” he said quietly.

“I like being your friend too,” Alfred responded, glancing over at him.

They smiled shyly at each other.

“Should we find Feli, or let this go?”

“Hm… I wonder if it matters, do you not?”

Nodding, Alfred said slowly, “I suppose we could just enjoy the evening? You know, as a fuck you to our bosses?”

“I rather like that idea. And what shall we do first?” Ivan asked.

“Drinks? On me, of course.”


End file.
